


Growing up in a Falling Republic

by tigereyes45



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: A grey jedi main character, Aliens, Canon-Typical Violence, Character learning how to cope with their trauma, Childhood Trauma, Gen, Growing Up, Order 66, Order 66 happens in the first chapter, Original Character-centric, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tigereyes45/pseuds/tigereyes45
Summary: Jacek is a young caamasi padawan. They served under Jedi Master Sierra Stormer for a year before order 66. Due to the caamasi's unique ability to remember some memories so vividly that it feels as if they relive it. They can also share these memories with close family members and force-sensitive people. Sometimes sharing the past is the only way for the future to survive.From rumors of his Jedi master secretly being a sith, to surviving order 66, and the years of trauma and fear after this story will follow Jacek's life. How he survives, and what triggers his memories that fundamentally changed him so.
Relationships: Mace Windu & Original Character(s), Original Clone Character(s) & Original Jedi Character(s), Original Jedi Character(s) & Original Jedi Character(s), Original Jedi character(s) & Original Padawan Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Run Young One

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a rewrite of an old one I did. It will include canon characters as well as some from Legends. Any and all constructive criticism is welcomed.

Slowly Master Sierra Stormer stands against the violent weather. Her light brown hair was held up in a low ponytail to keep it out of her face. The few white and blue strands were hidden within the rest. The winds rip must be ripping through her body straight to her bones. Jacek could barely stand this cold, and unlike her he had fur. It wasn't as warm as a wookie's but caamasi fur was far better than bare flesh like the humans and togrutas must bear. Things will be better once they're back at the Jedi Temple. One last separatist base. The clone troopers had already located the base. Commander Appo Smithers took pride in the squad. Unlike many clones he actively bragged about his men. A trait that would have clashed with many Jedi, but not his master. She didn't encourage his pride per se. No respectable Jedi would. She would quietly remind him of some of their lesser-known accomplishments and made sure each clone in their squad go their time in the commander's spotlight.

Tonight might be his turn. As long as he was able to keep up with the general and his fellow commander.

Jacek could already imagine it. Laylen would finally make that special secret dish he had been teasing them with for the last month. Apparently he had enough time during their stay with the locals to experiment with their food. Laylen was the only clone Jacek knew who actually got excited about cooking. He was also the only one who would go out of his way to try any and all edible food they would come across during their travels. It would bother Hightide to no end.

"Get moving. We need to make it there by nightfall." Said clone trooper announces. Gently he pushes on Jacek's shoulder. It was as if simply thinking his name summoned the clone. Instead of Hightide he should go by sneak. Sy Myrth was a planet with a variety of habitats. Currently they were running through a jungle much like the one he had grown up near. His home planet had a variety of climates too, but none were like the jungle. One couldn't get a few steps in without running into it's vibrate wildlife.

That was the one difference between Sy Myrth and home. While there was so much variety here as well, there wasn't as much life. Not anymore. The separatists had made sure of that. Their destructive ways led to the deaths of many. So many living inhabitants vanquished. His master almost didn't let him come because of them. She was careful with his missions. Picky was what other padawans called her. He used to agree with them. Master Stormer was strange.

She didn't let him go on most of her missions. Wouldn't allow him anywhere near the front lines for his first four months under her. With less emotions then Windu, his master acted. Ignoring the plight of none she often would take on missions the council did not give. Stormer did not allow any to touch. Save for the commander and on occasion himself. The thought of anyone even hugging her was completely out of the question. It wasn't that she was angry or violent with any who tried, but it made her uncomfortable. In a way few things did. In fact,

"Jacek!" His thoughts were cut off by her screams. Somehow despite the fierce winds her voice was loud and clear. Leaping from the rock she had been standing on, the master uses the force to push him down.

His right leg catches on some roots as he falls. The push had been comparatively gentle. Blasters begin to fire. The shing of Stormer's lightsaber. Were droids attacking? They had to be if her saber was moving so quickly. Mud seeps into his cherry brown fur. It clumps together. Slowly matting it all down to the skin underneath. Claws dig into the rotten wood of the log next to him. Peeking over, his eyes catch on the back of Hightide. His purple highlighted armor was difficult to see with all the vegetation. Jacek narrows his eyes to focus on the white instead. Raising one arm, the young caamasi reaches out with the force.

Bright lights fly past. Cutting close from the blasters back at the clones. There were no droids around. No voids of life moving fast past them. Whatever they were firing at, it was living. More blasts come startlingly fast from them again. Their red and blue shots standing out against the green backdrop of the vegetation around.

"Soldiers round them!" Commander Smithers' voice was barely audible over the storm. It pushes against his fur. Throwing the longer strands over his nose and eyes.

"Jacek stay down! Don't look!" Stormer orders. She spins through the sky landing a few feet away from him. Her back straightens as the blasts continue. The wind billows in her silver robes. They stick out as sharp as a tack against this vegetation. The clones were still shouting, but they were growing distant. Their words lost as the storm steadily picks up. Gradually the rain begins to fall. The world grows blurry. Master Stormer's face drops away into a look of pure devastation. Her lips move, but by now the storm had all but erased her voice. The words were lost in the wind like a man's dying call. Deliberately she turns away. The rain falls more frantically now, as everything becomes difficult to perceive.

Jacek's ears are pierced by the screams of their men as his master turns her sight onto them. One by one they starts to cry out. Commander Appo was the loudest of them all. He tries to ignore the sounds. To tune out all the pain around them. These were their friends. There men, who had fault beside him for the last year. Alongside his master even longer. Men they had trusted, who had trusted them. Now they were all firing at each other. Jacek holds his ears as his eyes watch the violence unfold.

So much was happening at once. His body began to become overwhelmed by it all. His senses started to overwork themselves trying to help him register anything that might help him. As his vision grows hazy his nose picks up on new scents. Fear was the strongest one. It was impossible to figure out who's fear he was smelling. The wind was tossing everything around, making tracking impossible. The fear mixes with

A soft hand grabs his wrist tenderly. It pulls his hand off from his ear. Hope flares up in Jacek's chest. Was his master done? Could they flee? He looks up to see the grim face of Franks. The clone's helmet was off. His once friendly eyes stares holes into Jacek. "I've got the padawan! He's over here!" His raspy voice struggles against the wind. It must have hurt him to yell so loud. Before Jacek had been assigned as Master Stormer's student Franks had suffered from a blast to his throat. It permanently scarred him, leaving his voice sounding like a smoke inhalers. If he was shouting so freely at the top of his lungs he must've really wanted Jacek dead. The clone takes aim. The tip of the blaster pushes through his curly matted fur. The cold metal rubs against his bare skin underneath.

The natural instincts of the caamasi kick in. Against his will, Jacek's body freezes up. Despite all his training under the Jedi it wasn't enough. All those lessons about self preservation weren't enough. His vision going blurry had been the first hasty reaction of his body. If he couldn't see it then he wouldn't have to carry it. This awful moment wouldn't become a memnii. A moment he would carry with himself forever. Everything in vivid detail, with no family to share it with and lesson the pain. Now as the gun presses against his skull, his body betrayed him more. His people weren't warriors. Their culture and nature were against violence for it could drive the caamasi insane. They weren't like the trandoshans or mandalorians. Their keen memories made carrying violence unbearable to most. So they shut down, freeze up, wait for the danger to past. His natural instincts would bring his death. His training hadn't been enough. The young caamasi squeezes his eyes shut. This was the end. Done in by his own natural instincts. Maybe he never was supposed to be a padawan. Shaking Jacek starts to hyperventilate.

This was how his story ends. Done in by the only men who had ever been his family.

There's the sound of a canon blast going off next to his ear. The gun tip slowly lifts away. It's followed shortly by a loud thud. Cautiously Jacek looks up. Franks was gone. He quickly spies the clone lying on the ground next to him. There was a huge hole in his chest. Dark red blood pours out. It spreads across his white and purple armor like one of Laylen's soups on bread. Bile rises in Jacek's stomach. Letting go of his ear he presses both palms against his lips as tight as possible. It was all he could do to keep from throwing up.

He needed to find out who saved him. If it was his master maybe they could make a quick escape. The world was little more then blurry colors now. If she was free enough to steal a blaster and save him then they could leave. There was little chance he would be able to make it on his own now. A few meters in front of him was a silver fog. It dances around five or six blurry white clouds in the trees. His master was still fighting. Her white lightsaber was little more then a bright like barely standing out from her clothes. She was too busy to have been able to help him. So who did? In this field of allies turned enemies was there a third force entering the fray?

Jacek forces himself to stand as he continues his search. The true source of that defensive shot had to be nearby. As soon as he was on his legs a gun is thrown down next to him. It bounces off the log, and hits his toes. Suddenly a fuzzy face fills his vision. Strong hands grip his shoulders. They steady his body. "Jacek! Hey you need to focus. You have to run!"

"Commander! What's going on? I don't understand!"

"I don't know kid. I-" Smithers cuts himself off. His fingers dig deeper into Jacek's shoulders. "I can't believe that you had anything to do with this." The words are mutter other his breath. They sound like an excuse he was pleading to himself. "Run! Before I do something I can't stop." Strong arms that were once a source of safety were so once more. Roughly he turns Jacek around.

"I know you can't see well right now. Your body it's seizing up, so I'm gonna point you in the clearest direction. You're gonna run straight. No matter how blurry the world gets you run straight."

"Appo-"

"No Jacek. No arguing. If you don't run now we _WILL kill_ you." Commander Appo Smithers' voice was filled with anguish. All that fear, pain, and hurt he had smelt earlier was stronger now. It hadn't all belong to the commander, but much of it did. Jacek nods. A weak attempt to clear his nose and answer the man all at once. The warning was more than the young padawan had expected. Taking it to heart he runs. Pushing his feet to go fast then he had ever pushed before, Jacek runs straight in the direction Appo set him in. For just a moment. One, split-second his face had been so clear. From his stormy dark brown eyes to the scar on the right side of his lips. His usually neatly combed hair now a wet mess. Did his body know this could be the last time he'll ever see that face. Granting him one last moment of clarity. A brief temporary moment to memorize him.

"Jacek!" Master Stormer's voice calls out like a warning bell on the wind. It's followed by more shots. The caamasi padawan continues to run. When he trips, when he falls, he gets back up. He still runs. From the firefight, from his family, as they kill each other.

The running only stops when his legs couldn't move anymore. The left gives out first. Crashing into a tree with a rotted out center. Anxiously, he digs more of the wood out of the crater. Pulling, and tearing it apart until there was enough room for his body to fit. Curling in on himself the padawn sets the wood chunks on top of his body. It was his last attempt at camouflaging the white and purple robes he wore. If that didn't work then the clones would find him by dawn. Appo's last act of kindness would have been for nothing. Though he assumes that it wouldn't really bother the man anymore. Whatever happened Appo was no longer someone he could count on. Franks was dead. He killed his brother for him. Such a savage act for the life of a person the others were trying to kill. Did he regret it now?

Jacek did.

Where was his master? Why did everything smell of death? There was an emptiness to the force that he had never felt before. Those thoughts circle around his head as he drifts off to sleep. Whatever was going on he knew one certainty. This memory would become a memnii. One he would probably have to carry alone for the rest of his life.


	2. Masters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone, and unsure of what to do the young caamasi padawan is stuck surviving on his own. He hasn't even been a padawan for a year and yet he has to learn so much, so quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Italics are the past as Jacek is reliving it.

The nightmares began as soon as Jacek closed his eyes. Rest was as much of a battle as the fight had been. Rain began seeping into the tree's cavity immediately. It continued long after the storm subsided. It cleans his fur of the mud from the night before, why simultaneously replacing it with the rotted wood.

Never had he felt so dirty. As if all of his fur was oozing with unpleasantness. When he finally fell asleep he dreams of Franks. Of the soldier with his helmet off. He was smiling with a razor in his hand. Having had just buzzed the sides of his head. Black bangs hang slightly over his forehead. Not long enough to impede his vision of course. After all he was a soldier and still had to be able to shoot. A soft quiet laugh escapes him as he sets the razor down. It switches on by itself. The buzzing sounds grows louder as he watches dance along the sink.

"Franks, the razor."

"It's fine Jacek." His stomach seizes up as he watches the razor spit hair out of it. Short black strands fill the sink. The razor begins spiting out clumps of hair violently. They switch from black, to short brown strands far too familiar. He grabs Franks hand. Anxiously he pulls him back towards the sink.

"No, it's not! Just look at the razor Franks!" With a clack it falls into the sterile metallic sink. The black strands of hair were overtaken by brown. The larger the pile grew the more the razor spit out. Eventually the brown hair became cherry tinted. Franks reaches into the sink. As he pushes his hand into the pile blood started running down it. Jacek looks up to see the razor was gone. The blood was spurting out of the top of the pile on it's own. Frantically Jacek tugs on Franks arm. the clone holds him closer. He buries Jacek's head into his chest.

"It's alright. Calm down young padawan. We'll get this mess clean up." His warm hand was wet as it rubs along the back of Jacek's head. The caamasi looks up to see a short cut on his right side of Franks' head. It stretches along the bottom of his hair line. Jacek remembers now. This happened, but not like this.

He had been cutting his hair until the padawan interrupted. The clone turned in a hurry having not expected anyone. That's when he had cut himself. It was the first time he had ever seen blood. Franks held him nervously. Quietly he reassured the newly titled padawan, but his words felt forced. He didn't know how to handle Jacek as his body locked down. Master Stormer eventually came and took over. She carried him away to his room, asking to speak with Franks later.

There was no Master here now. Instead as Jacek pulls back something wet and warm slides across his fur. Heart pounding in his chest he forces himself to look back at the sink. The razor was gone. Only the blood covered hair remains. With a heavy heart his eyes look past the hair, into the mirror behind it. Franks hand was covered in blood. His blood. It pours out of his chest and covers him. Flowing up and around his arms it drips from his hands, as the rest flows down painting him in his own blood. Blood he was down gently rubbing all over Jacek's fur.

The padawan wants to run. To cry out, and push the clone away. Instead, fighting against every instinct he had wanted to beat last night, Jacek tightens his hold. His claws dig into Franks shirt. Even as the man's blood starts to climb up them. Looking up, a pair of stormy brown eyes stare at them.

"I'm sorry Franks." The eyes stare un-movingly. Franks continues to softly pat down his fur with his bloody hands. "I'm so so sorry."

"Jacek." His master's voice fills his head. Moving at a snail's pace the eyes finally move. They stare through him to his soul. With one solid move they start to blink. Stomer's calm manor as she calls slowly spirals into screams worst then last night. "Jacek!" The room goes dark as soon the lidded eyes close.

Waking up with a start Jacek hit his head against the tree. Remembering that he had climbed into a small cavity the caamasi boy calms himself down. Daylight greets him with the sounds of animals first starting to wake up. He survived, somehow. If it was dawn then he would have to start running again soon. His clothes would only stand out more to the clones' trained eyes.

It's a struggle to move. His long arms get caught in the tree with every odd angle he has to draw them back in. It takes minutes for him just to check his head. Thankfully there were no cuts. No blood. There was more then one miracle last night then. Climbing out of the cavity was near impossible. He had to kick and shoved his body back through the hole. Even breaking off more wood from it's sides just to squeeze out. Stretching Jacek looks around. There was no one in his vicinity. He throws his arms up towards the sun. Grateful to be able to move again Jacek stands as he feels through the force. Remembering his lessons the boy forces his mind empty. Keeping the breathing measured had always been the easiest part for him. Emptying his mind was often the real trouble. Today was no different. After last night he couldn't feel more then a few feet away from him. There were many animals moving about, but no bipedals.

"Better than the alternative I suppose." The boy mutters too himself.

'If you ever get lost in the wilderness what must you do?' Once more his master's voice fills his ears. This time he's expecting her though. She had a plan for every possible instance. As long as he can keep calm and remember her words then he would survive this. Even if they had never expected the clones to turn on them. Taking a deep breath Jacek recites the rules.

"Food first. Once you have food, find a water source. Memorize it's location. Travel along the water source to find civilization, and get a message out. What do you do if the people you're supposed to send a message out to are gone?"

'I'm not gone.' Her voice insists.

"But you aren't here with me master."

'Find a water source Jacek. Then I will find you.'

"Yes master." It wasn't really her, but it was the closest thing he had. Finding food came first. Thankfully he had a keen sense of smell. All due to the snout his people were know for. While his was kind of small, it still was strong enough to pick up the smell of several plants nearby. One in particular stands out. Jacek follows the scent.

It's bitter in the wind. Strong, and overwhelmingly bitter. Just as it had been last night.

He wanders around for minutes before finding the plants. Hours longer to find the river. The plants his snout had led him too were indeed edible. Their taste was sour, and he could chew on more then two stems at a time. Still food was food. He had no credits to eat on even if he had found a random hovel to eat at. They made due. The long, sour green, stalks held off his hunger till he finally found the river. 

The ground gives way under his weight. Water rises up through the soggy bank, soaking the bottom of his robes. Cleaning these alter would not be fun. The white and blue at lined cloth had been through far worst. Though he had always been able to get it treated back at one of the temples before. Now it would be difficult. Cupping his hands together he catches some water from the river. There could be some plants that might do the trick. With hundreds and thousands of different kinds of excretions out there, something must work on robes. If his master's and Laylen lectures actually ever meant anything. If he found familiar flora it's an option. Jacek rubs the back of his neck. If nothing else works maybe the town they had come from could help him.

'Only if the clones aren't there.'

Jacek flings the water out of his hands. Yes he had heard Master Stormer's voice earlier, but that had been when he had first woken up. There was no way he should be hearing her now. Unless, his thoughts racing the young caamasi looks around. Sharp brown eyes spy nothing. Through the force he could only feel the wildlife. Just as before Jacek was entirely alone. Would he be alone forever now? Where was his master? How was she? Did the clones kill her? Did they feel any remorse over their actions?

The tears drip into his open palms before Jacek even realizes that he's crying. They caress his fur gently. Moving like snakes in the grass, the water flattening the strands like blades of grass. The pain from before starts to build up in his chest again. It threatens to overtake him. To throw Jacek back into the flurry of the attack. Head splitting, a faint spell catches on his snout. It sends his mind rolling. The dull slowly evaporating scent of books.

As suddenly as he had been thrown towards back towards the battlefield his mind traps him in a different memory. One that he didn't realize was important until now. Before Jacek could blink he was home. _The temple's vast library welcomes him in a hundred ways. A majority of them through his nose. The dust covered books, old scrolls, leaky electronics, and Master Jocasta' skin cream. All of them an open love letter for a better place._

It's funny when he reflects on it. Every single one of his most powerful memories start with the smells. The one part he pays the least amount of attention too. His snout was ten times more powerful then most other species. A fact that led to him learning how to ignore most of them. Banishing many scents to his subconscious. Maybe that's why they were always so strong in these memories. It felt as if he was actually still carrying the stack of books. Which meant in a moment he would feel the pain again soon.

_As soon as the thought passes the scroll on form IV smacks against his snout. Whoever he had ran into had a sturdy build. For the feet he had seen too late didn't move an inch as a result. There was a familiar cough. His body goes rigid. With a heavy heart Jacek looks up. With an unreadable expression Stormer looks down at him. After a courteous nod she passes by. He had been working under his master for a few months at that point. Eight to be exact. She was still as cold as the planet Hoth. Frigid in a way not even Mace Windu was seen as by the younglings. When he had first found out she was going to be his master, Jacek had been terrified. As he watched her back in the library he still feared her. Not in the same way as before. The fear of a new padawan unsure of how their master would be is a common one amongst those his age. What he felt in the lull between missions was the fear that came as a result of a completely apathetic master._

_She cared so little in fact that she even let him pick the next form he would be trained in. With basic mastery over Form I his master allowed him a choice in his training. Where this wasn't uncommon it was for the second form a padawan would learn. All younglings are trained in forms I and III. Once the Clone Wars started a little bit of form II also ended up in their training. Yet no youngling ever came close to mastery those forms. It was seen as a must for them to learn, but mastery of them had to come from their masters. Stormer only saw his training of form I finished. Maybe she had expected him to choose one of the other forms. Was this a test? Worry knots in his stomach again. Just as it had back then. He could feel his feet nervously pacing in place, even as the river sloshes against his knees._

These memories could be an issue out in the field. Jacek fights for control of his mind. It was dangerous to fight against them. To pull oneself out of a memory abruptly was dangerous, but if he keeps tugging. Slowly of course. Gradually he would become free faster.

_Form IV made sense for him to pick. It was the form most used to defend against blasters, and other ranged attacks. It was a more offensive style, but he could be offensive. Who would stop him? True Master Yoda had suggested he stay out of combat but just because he was a caamasi didn't mean he couldn't fight._

Jacek's hands tighten around his wrist outside the memory. If only he had known back then.

_Well standing here watching her wouldn't change anything. Returning to his room with his materials would be for the best. There he could have some peace. Peace, quiet, and still the comforting smells of the library thanks to his bundle. The temple's library was his favorite place to be. Few things could beat just the air, and electric feeling he got when inside it. His quarters were easily in second place._

_As he turns to go, Jacek once again found himself face to face with a Jedi master. This time the most feared of all the Jedi masters. Mace offered him a raised eyebrow. Jacek wasn't sure if it was a question of his presence, or why he had just been standing there staring off into space. The basis of the fur covering his arms begin to perspire._

_"M-master Windu!" The name comes out as a stuttering yelp. Quickly Jacek throws his head down to bow. It smacks against the scroll at the top of his pile again._

_Mace frowns before casually looking around. With a cough the Jedi master finally addresses him. "No need to be nervous Padawan Brandee. I came here seeking your master."_

_"Master Stormer? She just went around the corner." He goes to point, but the human was already walking away. Perhaps he had an idea which section Stormer would be in. Jacek always enjoyed the same few sections himself. Even with those excuses he finds himself watching Mace Windu. He walks to the edge of the fourth aisle. History of temples. With a casual glance the human must've decided it was where he would find her. For he turned on his heels after such a quick glimpse down it._

_Jacek should have gone back to his room. He shouldn't have done what he did next. Curiosity had already dug it's claws into his mind. There had been rumors. So many rumors. Of course he wanted to know more._

_Quietly, with short, soft steps Jacek trails behind Windu. Somehow he made it to the aisle without being stopped. Deciding luck was on his side, Jacek kept pushing. He popped his head around the shelf just enough to see. There at the end, leaning against the shelf closest to his side was Master Stormer. Her posture was relaxed. With the way her mouth was pressed tightly, she was upset. Perhaps impatient. Jacek pulled his head away. They hadn't seen him. Which only served to encourage him more. With all the trained skills he had gathered the padawan tiptoed down aisle three. His head leaning towards where his master had been._

_"Your mission briefing is soon."_

_"Mace." Master Stormer sound impatient. Testy._

_"What brought you to the library?"_

_Jacek held his breath as soon as he heard them. He risked two more steps and crouched down. Mace wouldn't see him. Neither had heard him. This was a chance to finally get some answers._

_"My padawan frequents this place. It is his comfort zone. However he often forgets how long he is here. In order to make sure he had enough time to prepare for the briefing I came to make sure he left with plenty of time."_

_"Good news then. I saw your padawan stepping out as I came in."_

_"Did you?" Why did she sound so unsure? Had she seen him? No. Master Stormer always gave of an indication if she was upset. Nothing upsets her as much as being spied on. If she had there was no way he would be allowed to stay. Despite all his rationalizing, his anxiety grows._

_"Sierra,"_

_"You did not come here to ask after my padawan."_

_"No I did not. Though I am still surprised you picked him."_

_"He's young Mace." A desperate plea. Was his age an issue for her?_

_"Almost to young to be a padawan."_

_"He passed his trials." Pride swells up in his chest. His master was defending him! The cold, apathetic warrior was defending him to a member of the high council!_

_"Trials he was put through earlier than intended due to your insistence." Her what?_

_"Are we here to bring up the same argument as before."_

_"No we are here to talk about why you insists on taking your entire battalion with you for this next mission."_

_"Ah so that is the problem." Was that an uncommon occurrence? On the last few missions where he had actually been near a battle Commander Appo Smithers and the other clones were always there._

_"You do not need them all. It is supposed to be a fast assignment. Barely any danger."_

_"Yet hundred of cities set up by the local inhabitants. Many of which probably speak a myriad of languages. I need my battalion because in order to ensure their safety. Plus it's the only way I get to take Yevon into the field." Who was Yevon? Jacek risks looking up to see Mace was closer to Stormer now._

_"Is this really all over one clone."_

_"An Arc-trooper who was trained specifically in linguistics. He knows almost as many languages as I do, and far more then my padawan. If we are going there to defend the locals I need him to help me make sure things go smoothly." Seriously who was this clone?_

_Mace crosses his arms. "So that is what this is all about."_

_"Only you can find such simple answers."_

_"You don't trust your padawans skills." His tone rapidly changes. Now it sounds as if he has won something in this horrible exchange. "Do you not trust in the training you've given him?" Jacek's heart sinks heavy as a stone._

_"You know very well that is not the problem. He is new. I had less languages learned when I was that age then he does."_

_"Then what is it Sierra?"_

_"He's caamasi. They are sensitive. I am simply doing my job as a responsible master. This war we are in could leave him crippled by his memories. I will not let it ruin another living being. Especially when we shouldn't even be in it to begin with!" So this was all because of the memnii? She hadn't let him participate in most of her battles because of his species. Master Stormer didn't believe in him. Worst then that. It wasn't even because of anything he did. Her simple reasoning was something he couldn't even argue against. Many of his kind had been driven to suicide from horrible memories that they wouldn't share through the memnii._

_"That wasn't your call."_

_"No. It was the council's. Just as pulling me back from the outer rims to train a padawan's had been." Jacek's breath hitches on a silent sob. This, all of this was stuff he had wanted to know. Tidbit of information he had been trying to glean from every possible source. It was all here, being laid out before him. He should be excited. By all means Jcaek should be struggling not to jump with excitement. Yet he could barely bring himself to cheer up even a little. His master had lost her own._

_"Is this about his species special abilities, or your anger about being force to take on a learner?"_

_"We both know it goes back further than that." Her long history with Windu was clear, but just how did they know each other? Master Windu was around fifty-three years old. His own master was only in her late twenties. At least she looked only late twenties. Well how that range looks for humans. Then again he wasn't entirely sure if she was completely human._

_"You need to let it go Sierra. This anger, the moves you have been using lately, how you've spoken to the other members of the high council. There are whispers that you have fallen."_

_"I haven't-"_

_"I know, but we both know you have always toed that line. You've trained yourself in skills from the dark side that are dangerous. You have not fallen. Not like Quinlan, but it could happen. Just as easily. Perhaps more so." There's a pregnant pause. It's cut by a sigh. His words are filled with something different. Not sinister but heavy. The warning in them the only thin that had been clear. "You may never forgive us for taking you away from your master, but listen to me now. Be safe." Mace steps closer with outstretched arms and open hands._

_"Words of caution, from you? This must indeed be the true depths of the unknown you are sending us into. All the more reason for my battalion." Stormer looks away as he gently grabs her shoulders._

_"I am asking you not as a peer, or a superior, but as a friend. As an old friend who knows that look in your eye. How that rebellious side of yours manifest in your stance. Those forces to tap into because you lack fear of them can attract unknown dangers. In that place, during this time, they are already filled with such things. No reason for you to add to them."_

_"Controlling the darkness within each of us is part of being a Jedi, Mace Windu. We are not supposed to shut out any side of the force completely. That is foolishness. As individuals with such powers we have a responsibility to listen and be strong enough to resist the tricks. To discern the lies from it's truths."_

_"When has that side ever not lied?" He was so certain. Yet so was she._

_"We are surrounded by books, scrolls, and holocrons possessing such answers, dear council member. All anyone has to do is simply look passed those that are required for the younglings to learn."_

_"Younglings, padawans, and masters have come to us with concerns about you. Just what kind of acts gain such attention, do you think?" She shakes his hands off._

_"My methods are unorthodox. My padawan has also been fed such trivial lies. I am training him the way he needs to be if he is going to survive. I would never force such ideals on another. They are mine and mine alone. Just as they had been when I first came to them."_

_"While under the tutelage of a master who had been harboring a secret family from the Jedi. Breaking all our rules!" His voice was barely still a whisper. This conversation was getting dangerously close to not belonging to the secrecy of the shadows anymore._

_"Careful Windu. He did not break all of them." Was there another meaning in those words?_

_"Will you? Don't get yourselves killed," Mace steps away from Master Stormer. "and don't die for the clones. Your last injury was concerning enough. It would hurt our side now to lose any more experienced Jedi."_

_"Jedi defend, Master Mace."_

_"They need to be alive in order to do that Master Sierra." Even as they returned to some kind of formality they still called each other by their first names. Were all Jedi this comfortable around each other. Could they also call each other out, while in the end agreeing to disagree? He had never seen anyone have disputes with any of his teachers as a youngling. Perhaps they kept them out of each shot of the younger folk. It would have been harder for him to focus on inner peace, and focus if he was always planning his next remark to another. How many divisions were their in the temple? There were a few hundred Jedi. Perhaps there were twice as many outlooks. Did the dead have their own?_

_"Say hello to Commander Smithers for me."_

_"What makes you think I will see him before the mission?"_

_"I just gave you your debriefing. The details are in your quarters. I trust you will inform your padawan." There was something in his voice. A lightheartedness that hadn't been there before. As if they hadn't just been in the middle of a heated debate._

_"Jacek?"_

Even though it was all a memory he still jumps. Both in and out of the moment. The river rises above his knees. It was also possible he had jumped further into it. Whichever it was the freezing water was enough of a shock to help pull him out. His eyes blink, merging the two realities. Past and present. Neither a happier time.

'Jacek the blood.' Master Stormer's voice calls his attention away. As he turns his head towards the direction of her voice the past flees completely. Her voice gone with it. Once more he was utterly alone. Pain stabs at his heart again. The young caamasi holds himself tighter. His long claws digging into his arms was his only source of comfort left.

Red catches his right eye. It was on the peripheral, but it was there. On his shoulder, where her voice had been, was his red stained sleeve. From the right side of his collar, all the way down to the start of his right arm, was blood. There was no hopes of saving the precious cloth now. Even if he somehow cleaned it things were different now. Franks was dead. This whole time his blood was on him. Jacek had been too tired to notice last night. This morning he was so glad to have a chance at peace that he hadn't noticed still. Blissful ignorance.

Was the Jedi just blissfully ignoring the clones' needs this entire time? Had they been suffering the whole while? Did his ignorance and lack of empathy cause this?

'You need to move Jacek.'

Shaking away his master's voice, Jacek starts to weep. Loudly he cries out. All the sorrow, the worry, the loss hitting him at once. Knees slip deeper into the river's soil. His first clinging to every bit of sand it could keep as if they were trying to ground him. As if anything could stop this.

Jacek doesn't know how long he cries. Time becomes nonexistent as he mourns. His grieving loud, and exuberant. If anyone had still been alive they would have warned him. Warned him about the dangers that such emotions attract.


	3. An Older View

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Sierra Stormer knows only a few truths in her life.  
> 1\. The force was not so easily defined in the dark and light sides.  
> 2\. She could never be the person she had wanted to.  
> 3\. Commander Appo Smithers was one of four people she could trust, and one of the five who she let touch her.

Before she could react she heard the safeties on the blasters being turned off. The click in her ears were oddly loud despite the raging winds. Her skin felt like ice, but it was her blood that ran cold as if fled from her face. The soldiers were preparing to fire. They were ready to fight and she hadn't given a command. Hadn't sensed any hint of aggression before they raised their weapons. Voices cry out through the force. Two louder than the rest. Which meant they could only all be aiming at those already with them. Brothers would never turn on each other. Not the clones.

"Jacek!" She whips around. Silver robe, clinging to her skin against the weather. Her eyes narrow against the winds. He was there staring up at her with wide eyes. Confusion fills his face. The poor fool had been so lost in thought he didn't realize what was about to happen. Gritting her teeth Sierra jumps off her rock. With her free hand she pushes her young padawan down. The other summons her lightsaber. Her body has trouble twisting in the air, but somehow she manages it. Dodging the first two blasts. Barely sticking the landing her left foot slips in the mud. She throws her body forward to keep her balance. The firebrand hilt of her lightsaber was cool to her touch.

Everything on this planet had been cold. Even the natives here were distant. Not that she could blame them. They were strangers on this planet insisting that droids were present. For months they had been here. Months. The only warmth had come from her men. The brothers that had filled every moment with laughter, curiosity, kindness. Now just like the planet they were freezing her out. Completely cold to her appearance and, she assumes, her words as well. None of them had their helmets off. If they had she was sure their eyes would be icy. As frigid as the way they stood now. Each one of them had been hand-picked. All twenty, for this late-night espionage. Every one of these men had been there for her and her padawan. They had her ultimate trust. A trust now shattered as they aim their blasters at her head.

She stares at Appo. She doesn't try to implore him to stop. Nor express any kind of discomfort. This soldier who barely could act like one was completely official now. His stance was professional. The way he holds his gun leveled, and with both hands was so unlike him. This clone, the first one she ever met. The only one she trusted with even her deepest secrets, now was someone else. His presence in the force felt like a stranger's. As if someone had masked him with another. Silently she turns on her lightsaber. The sound of it turning on cuts the pregnant pause.

There was no call. No demand given, but they fire together nonetheless. In unison the fight begins again. Their three years of fighting side by side gone. Now a twisted competition for survival. She ducks leaving her saber up above her head. It deflects a few of the blasts away. Yet many of the soldiers had still been hit. Three fall, and she hopes they aren't dead. Looking at the clone closer to her she could see that they were set to kill. Whatever was going on they were planning to end her. Possibly Jacek as well. Placing her left foot back as far as she can, Sierra twists her body around. In one fluid motion she cuts the tips off the blasters. A gap opens between Appo and Pulse. Stopping suddenly, the Jedi master pushes herself between them. 

"Soldiers round them!" Appo's voice was filled with rage. The wind howls alongside the commander. They both scream. Calling out into the void of the world just trying to be heard by anyone. Raging on the inside and out. As her legs brush against his falling form Sierra could feel the confusion within him. The turmoil threatening to erupt and shatter his mind. A hand grabs the end of her robes. With no hesitation, she cuts it off. With skilled precision, she's able to free herself and keep the blade above her leg.

Throwing her free hand out Sierra catches herself. The momentum forces her body into a roll. Going along with it she lets go of her saber. With a familiar shing it recedes. Holding the hilt under her neck, she look around. Jacek was starting to rise back up over the log. The fool had no sort of battle sense! Putting all her body weight into her legs, she throws them out again. Catching on a tree the Jedi hunches down, her simple, worn-down shoes break some of the bark off. In a set of smooth, instantaneous moves Sierra drops her lightsaber, catches, and activates it, while she pushes her body back at the clones.

A blast hits her empty hand. She cuts down at least two more weapons. Landing in a kneeling position Sierra glares down at the clones. These men had betrayed her. The Jedi she could understand. Many of them were unhappy about the part they were being forced to play. Lengthy discussions about the morality of the war were often the central topic during their meals. One she never shied away from. This war had been cruel. It was wrong. Creating lives just to throw them at an enemy was sadistic, and all her men knew she held no love for the council. If she had it her way they would have released all of the clones the moment they were discovered.

Yet they had the audacity to put her padawan at risk! Jacek! Appo helped him study the Republic's history. Pulse taught him how to shoot more accurately. Laylen always made him laugh. Franks was always nervous around the young caamasi, but when all was said and done he was the one who stuck the closest to him in fights. He looked up to them!

"Jacek stay down! Don't look!" The orders come out as a bark. Loud, yet unclear. She hopes he heard her. That those words would be enough to save him from this memory. Caamasi were easily taken down by violent acts, what would it do to his mind to see all of this? She was trying her hardest to keep this from being a massacre. The clones just weren't giving her many other options. Once more the Jedi master jumps away. Spinning through the sky as she often saw Mace do. She mimics his style of twisting her lightsaber along with her body. Turning it into part of the storm that she was becoming in this moment. With a thud she lands in mud. It sticks to the bottom of her clothes, like bottom-feeders in the ocean. The wind keeping the clothes head back out of her way. She straightens her back. Their constant fire never stops. She lets them get a few hits in. This couldn't continue. If it did they would all die. Jacek would die. Carefully she looks over at her padawan. Hoping to disguise the act as her trying to gauge their numbers and force. Even from a few feet away she could feel his panic. Hear his fear building up, freezing him.

"I won't let them hurt you." The words were spoken more so to herself than for him. Purposefully she turns her back to him. Hunching over, she casually raises her lightsaber. Bile builds up in the back of her throat. Master Sierra Stormer stops aiming at their blasters.

The next few minutes are a scene she may never forget. Thankful her memory will eventually fade, unlike her apprentice's. Slowly she phases out her non-lethal actions. For those foolish enough to run at her the Jedi starts cutting closer and closer to their hands. The first three she disarms and kicks them away. They escape with sore chests. The fourth one to try this same tested, and proven ineffective method isn't so lucky. She cuts his gun in half, taking the tips of his fingers with. With a strangled scream she kicks him down as well.

They start firing from a distance again. Were they surprised by such an act? Who could say. It was clear to her now that she had not known these men as well as she originally thought. Anger floods through her body, warming her against the freezing rain. It keeps her going, pushing ever that much more as she deflects their blasts.

"I've got the padawan! He's over here!" Franks' voice was like a punch to her gut. Turning her back towards her opponents Sierra swallows down the fear of what she would see. Franks had his blaster to Jacek's temple. He was going to execute him while he was still on his knees. Not even letting him try to struggle. From the looks of it Jacek was too frozen in place to try. With as much strength as she could sacrifice, Sierra pushes all the clones away from her. She needed a moment. Just a clear enough opening so she could throw Franks away without her soldiers killing her. Without looking around Sierra moves to lift the man. However he was shot down before she could.

She's forced to lift her lightsaber up again as a blast hits the back of her leg. Carefully keeping tabs of her apprentice, Sierra forces her attention back on the fight at hand. Incorporating more force attacks the Jedi focuses on once again keeping the clones back. From the corner of her eyes she can see Appo Smithers there. Jacek and him seemed to be talking. Their words lost in the storm before she could ever have hoped to hear them. The man holds Jacek's shoulders tightly. Pointing the young boy in the opposite direction of the fight. With a rough shove her padawan is sent away.

"Jacek!" Her anger starts to fade. The fear that had accompanied it dissipates as her padawan escapes. It takes all of her self-discipline to look away. She wants to do nothing more than to watch him escape into the forest. Deeper, and deeper just to ensure that he does make it away alive. Yet if she were she would die here. Leaving her padawan alone to face this planet on his own. It would be cruel. Watching Appo run back to his men Sierra decides on one last rash course of action. She grabs the man through the force and pulls him closer. He struggles against the invisible hold. Clawing with his free hand at his sides.

His body drops next to her. "I'm sorry my friend."

Wrenching his gun from him she headbutts the clone. Memories race through her mind. Their first time meeting, how he smiled for the first time when she got into an argument with Mace, the way his eyes didn't judge her when he learned her secret. Changing the blaster to stun she fires two shots into Appo's chest. His body quickly goes limp. The same way it had that time after the bar fight. She had thought him dead then. Now she won't let him die. Carefully, with a practiced ease she uses the force to move his body back behind a large tree.

All the energy that had been flooding in excess before was now gone. With a heavy heart, and clouded mind she makes one final decision as the general of the 98th battalion. The men cry out as she turns the gun on him. They were all quick with their guns. Almost all were near-perfect shots. Yet none had proved to be better then her. The gun feels right in those long hands of hers. It's a comfort like an old friend. A part of her just like her lightsaber but in a different way. For a time already gone. One they may all need to return to. She pours everything out into the gun. Emptying her mind and body like a waterfall throwing everything off itself.

The first shot tears away the fear. The second, the rage. The third all those thought of vengeance. She shouldn't have cut off those fingers. Nor harm the clones in the ways she had. It was a momentary lapse in judgement. One that may have just sown seeds of resentment within them forever. Hatred she deserves. The rain stops. Finally the wind slows.

With the last shot the battle is over. Nineteen of her twenty chosen lay about around her. Sprawled on the ground in dull pain. When they wake up that pain will either be gone, or hit them full force. Untying her sash Sierra turns to leave. Looping the sash around the blaster, she bounds it tightly to her side. Hopefully the other clones will wake up, remember she took his blaster, and assume she had killed Franks. Once his body was found, questions would be risen. They account for the guns and shots fired. Perhaps even narrow it down to him. Appo had done her a great favor, allowing that child to survive. This was the least she could do for him.

Her lightsaber made quick work of her once long robes. She cuts the fabric into strips. All the way up to her knees. She binds the hands of every clone. Steadily, with deft hands she gently rolls overs those that had landed on their stomachs. It would take the men practically no time at all. Tying their hands in front of their chest was just her trying to be kinder. Hesitating on the soldier who's fingers she had cut clean off the Jedi says a few quiet words. Young Hilltop hadn't deserve such cruelty. He had been one of the newest clones added to her ranks. He stood out the most among the hundred new men who had joined at the same time.

Master Sierra Stormer could not keep track of the names of all five hundred seventy six men under her command. No sane person could. She tries of course. That's what any decent person would. She smiles fondly at a memory. One she allows herself to dwell on for just a brief second before moving on. Hilltop had made his name easy to remember. He stood proudly at the top of her ship. Arrogance ebbed off him in waves. Proudly he gave the declaration of his name. As soon as Pulse had shot him down with friendly fire the clone went into the lengthy and not all that funny story of his time in training. King of the hill was his favorite game. The one he excelled at too.

"General?"

Surprised, she pulls the strip into a tight knot. In a flash she is back on her feet. Forcing the nerves to stay calm. All the while reaching for her lightsaber and the blaster. Jumped again, she would not be. Paranoia does not guarantee safety. Cautiously she searches for the source.

"General." It's no longer a question. He knows she's there. That voice that calls to her. It keeps her grounded the same way it always had for these last three years. Lonely she had been. Lost and alone. She rounds the tree with the gun still on stun. Her lightsaber is back on her hip. Put away but so close. Mentally she was prepared for anything her commander had to say. Emotionally she already felt dead. Her heart was pouring out in a way it hadn't for years. The same way it had when she had lost him. When she had lost both of her masters.

"Appo."

"Commander Smithers," He insists pushing himself up against the tree. Jet black hair, usually so neatly combed up, was dripping wet across his forehead. The longer bangs barely touching the tips of his eyes. Those brown eyes that remind her so much of corellian whiskey from home. From her master's home. Those eyes wouldn't meet her own. This was off. There was something wrong with him. A fact she knew based off the actions of him and their team tonight. With Appo though, there was something more. Something deeper inside of him. An unstoppable shadow bullying the man around.

"Commander." Nodding Sierra watches him closely. He was out of weapons. The only way he could murder her now was with his own hands. If Jacek wasn't out there she may have even let him.

"Why'd you do it?" His voice was tired. This fight had taken as much from him as it had from her. Sierra sits on the ground across from him.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. From my point of view your men started firing on me and my padawan out of no where."

"You betrayed the republic." Venom and certainty. Whatever was going on he took it to heart and believed it. More than he had believed in her.

"I'm sure at some point the lines of our words have blurred or even dance along that line, but please commander explain. How did I betray the republic?"

"The order. Order 66. All the Jedi have turned their backs on the Republic. You betrayed them! You betrayed us!" His voice cracks. Those safe brown eyes now held so much pain. Earlier today they had been talking about what to have for breakfast tomorrow. Who was going to perform best during the mission. If leaving Yevon behind was really the brightest idea. Now they were reduced to this. Herself sitting in the mud, in her shorts and a half destroyed robe. He crying as if he had just watched his family die. With a sharp pang, the memory of Franks body hits her. He had. While all the clones had become used to seeing their brother's die not many could say they had taken the life of one of their own. It wasn't just Franks though. As they sit there, sullen, and somber, it was the end of something else too. A dynamic shift between her and the one person she had ever considered family.

"I don't know who gave that order commander." Slowly she reaches out for him. Almost cupping his cheeks, she pulls back her hand the last second. In part because she knows things are different. Mostly it was because Appo recoiled from her. Seeming terrified, and disgusted by her touch. Sierra did not like touching people. Others touching her was an even rarer sight. Only five had such a permission, and now one of those five was withdrawing from her. "Whoever it was, they lied. The Republic is not always right. The Jedi are in the fault for more than they'll ever admit," The trees above them creak as if to agree. "But I would never have betrayed you. Never you commander. Nor your men. I hold too much respect for you all."

"LIAR!" Spit flies from his mouth. It lands on her knee. "I trusted you! We trusted you! But you betrayed us." His words were accompanied by choked sobs. Wanting to hold him the Jedi master leans closer. He did not want her to touch him. Out of respect, she doesn't. Instead, she tries to use the force to comfort the man in whatever way it could. Trying to ease his mind, and make him feel at the very least safe.

"Commander-"

"What would your son think?"

If he had any other cards to pull none were quite an ace like that. He wanted to hurt her. To make her feel the same pain he was currently writhing in. She didn't have to listen. Didn't have to give in to that grief. Nothing was stopping her was getting up and walking away. Nothing but herself. That annoying little voice in the back of her head still asking all those questions she buried deep within herself.

"You know nothing of that boy, Appo. Just like me."

The laughs that leaks out of his mouth was strange. It was twisted, and slow. So different was his usual calm, and demanding laugh. The kind that catches everyone's attention. This laugh only caught her's.

"That's where you're wrong. Mace kept tabs on him. I hacked into his computer last time our battalions served together. Found out exactly where the kid is." His cackle dies now. Slowly it turns into a short coughing fit. Not enough for concern. A part of her was glad it just stopped his laughter. That was Appo. None of this was. With dull eyes he looks down at his hands. His next words are soft. Delicate as her baby's hands had once been. "I visited him once. Just to check up on him. Was gonna tell you after the war. If you ever wanted to know." His head lolls back, gently rubbing against the tree.

"But what would he think if he knew the truth about you? Master Jedi."

"Whatever truth you think there is about me commander, you are wrong. I will prove it to you one day. Your men are safe. There was only one causality. Consider this my repayment for you saving my padawan."

"Don't drag him down with you Sierra! That boy deserves better! Just like my brothers do! Just like your son did." He points at her violently. As if placing all that blame could somehow change the past. Perhaps in his mind it could.

Sierra stands without look at him. Her eyes stay trained on the ground at her feet. "I know." It was a small concession. The only one she had left to give. If even the man she considered a brother thought her undeserving, then who was she to argue? His words only speak a truth she had harbored within herself for years already. Despite knowing better Master Stormer returned from the uncharted planets. She came back to the Jedi order, already knowing she didn't belong there.

The wind whispers gentle secrets. The forest closes in on Master Stormer as she turns her back on Commander Appo Smithers. His hand still hangs there in the air. Pointing like a makeshift arrow that was ready to fall free from it's post. Turning her back to him the Jedi picks a random course. Any in this direction should be enough to lead the troops away from her padawan. The commander still seemed to care a great deal for him. Perhaps that would be enough to focus their efforts on her. That hope burns brightly like a lighthouse in the back of her mind. Tonight she would go until she couldn't. When her legs were so weak they could no longer carry her, then and only then will the woman sleep.

Sloppily the Jedi makes sure to leave an obvious trail. Several broken branches. Clear disturbances in the ground. Mistakes so easy to spy that the men might assume a drunk had made them if it wasn't for the fact that only two kinds of people would be out this far. Her and her former men. That was it. The hunted and hunters. Force be with her this mission was now completely fucked up beyond recovery. Were there ever even droids? For two months they were on this planet. Two months they helped, and aided the people. Two months they collected data. Two months and the largest fight they had was one against themselves. Sierra could only recall seeing about two units of droids until now.

Maybe this had all been some part of a bigger plan. If it was then it wasn't a part of the Jedi's. Enemies of the republic, Appo had called them. Whatever was going on, Mace would know. She just had to find a way to contact him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be longer but I hit some writer's block and just decided to publish the first half.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Master Sierra Stormer spies on her remaining forces. Discovering that it isn't just their attitudes towards herself that has changed.

Sierra finds a large tree with branches high into the canopy. Enough lower foliage perfectly blocking the view of any onlookers. Leaving a few more clues away from her chosen shelter. She focuses on them extensively taking hours for each. These were her men after all. They were capable of tracking even the most difficult of prey. Jacek probably hasn't even thought about hiding his way. With help of the force perhaps the rain would do enough to hide him. Her attempts at trickery making up for what nature could not do.

Aching feet barely get her back to the tree. Pain sends tremors through her arms as she starts the climb. Never had her body felt so sore. Even during her days as a padawan the training had not been so draining. The closest she could compare to this experience was that time. One single moment where she gave in, instead of controlling the darkness surrounding her. In that one blissful moment, nothing mattered. Pain, fear, her body's physical limits didn't exist. There was only the power surging through her right arm. Electricity spreading from the tips of her fingers down her spine. An instance of such intense emotion that all she could see was her master's face. Dark wooden, brown eyes filled with such shock that it even overwhelmed the fear within them. Slick, black hair like coal reflecting the lightning spraying out from her finger tips.

Thunder fills the air, jarring her back to reality. As fast as she returns her world starts to shake. Water runs down the tree, feeding into every crevice along the bark. Fingers slipping Sierra braces the flats of her shoes against the tree. Bracing herself, she pushes all of her weight onto her feet. Using all of her physical prowess the Jedi master launches herself into the sky. Soaring two feet up and about half a foot across her fingers easily wrap her hands around the closest branch. Her body lurches forward, keeping up the momentum the jump gave her. Throwing her legs up, she lets go of the branch. Swinging her whole body up to the next branch. This time leaping hands first into the next. Again and again she repeats the motions. Continuously, never losing speed or force until she came to the first branch above the canopy.

The rain hits harder in the upper canopy. With so little above her to protect from the cold drops, Sierra is quickly soaked. Head to toe her robes start to cling to her skin. From her shoulders down to her knees where she had so unceremonious cut them off. Were they using those robes to try and track her? If they made it back to the town perhaps there would be an animal there that could do it for them. There appeared to be no hunting animals in the village. At least none she had taken notice of during their stay there.

Sy Myrthians weren't especially known for their sense of smell either. Their speed was also nothing compared to the clones. Moving only on one foot put them on the same caliber as the hutts movement wise. Though most Sy Myrthians are faster then the Hutts. They also had short fur and elongated heads, nothing at all inherently beneficial for tracking. Unless the clones had another means, her head start should give her enough time to find Jacek before them. That is, as long as they haven't already found him.

Considering the many disadvantages to her current situation, Sierra barely slept. When her mind would not rest enough to grant her that peace, she channeled her energy into meditation. As she once again wakes up to the sound of thunder Sierra takes a deep breath. Pressing her back flat against the tree's trunk her head leans back against it. Crossing her legs, she centers her hands to the middle of her stomach. Meditation wasn't always easy for her. Neither had sleeping been. Though the former was a close second to sleep if there ever was one. Trying not to laugh she allows herself one smile. Just one, briefly at the thought. Mace wouldn't have found it funny. Her master would've.  _ 'If you can not sleep, meditate. Both allow your mind to relax, and bring you closer to the force. Still your body young one. You'll be amazed at what makes itself clear to you then.' _

His deep voice resonates from within her chest. Rough, calloused hands find themselves on her shoulders, steadying her. Corellian whiskey on his breath. The ghost of a man she once knew was all that was there. With the comfort of his presence comes the sadness. Loss can be such an overwhelming emotion. Memories it drags along, tinted by blue glasses, and nostalgia.

Dark brown hair whips around in the wind. Random strands tugging against her scalp in the ferocious weather. That was real. She exists, and he doesn't anymore. The words, that's cruel carve themselves into her heart as the storm blows the ghost away. With it goes the warmth. Steady hands that were always there, now gone, riding the breeze. Her conscious goes with it, yearning for that warmth like flowers yearn for the sun.

Never had she grown more than under that warmth. Since then her learning has been stifled. Even when Horn had taken her under his wing. Mace hadn't even been able to help her quite in the same way her master had. Perhaps it was because she was older by then. Already a master in her own right. Years of pain behind her. In the wake of it all perhaps it was inevitable, her biggest mistake.

Crying fills the air. The raindrops turn into tears. Soft, half frozen tears against her freezing skin. Mind empty, Sierra is finally able to push out all her thoughts. With a stable heart, and shaky breaths the world returns to peace around her. Entering the emptiness with an open mind Sierra waits out the storm.

As the sun rises the wind dissipates first. Heat dries off her soaked skin. Every beam of sunlight carefully pushing the storm clouds away. They let out another bout of raindrops. One final declaration of their intent. Eventually they give in and allow the air to push them away. As all things do. Cracking her neck, Stormer stretches her legs out along the branch. Bark scratches against the soft skin on the back of her legs. Rough, but not enough to scar.

There had been enough scars made last night.

Stretching her arms out towards the sun Master Stormer takes a deep breath. Centering her weight in the core of her stomach. Focusing she narrows her goal. Closing her vision through the force on a single individual. Scanning, searching, grabbing a hold of the moment she finds him. Many Jedi could feel things through the force. Making brief connections to the living souls nearby. This was typically done for reconnaissance, or to ask for aid from the local fauna. Stormer was able to take it a bit further. Not only could she create connections with other living being through the force, but she could also sense their exact locations sometimes. All of that while also establishing enough of a connection that she could have whole conversations with them. If the entity can't speak emotions and memories often flow back in response. The more complex the individual, then there were that many more ways to connect, and interact. Truly the most special aspect of this connection was that she could do all those things at once. Sometimes to several individuals if she knows them well enough. Most can only sense, or connect, and usually it's either one or the other. Occasionally one right before the other.

'Never forget you're ability to connect is as much of a strength as it is a weakness.' Mace's words pat her shoulder as she finds Jacek squirreled away.

"Jacek." Her words land. Stormer is sure of that. It's how his name sounds reflecting back. Not hollow, but muted. As if it had hit before bouncing right back at her. Focusing on the contact she senses drowsiness. Unlike herself the young padawan had managed to sleep. Fear smacks against her cheek. He was asleep but running form something terrifying. No, not running. Stormer pushes the mental connection to go deeper. Land more soundly within his mind. Iron covers her tongue. Just enough of a taste for her to identify it's origins. Blood. Blood, and nightmares were distressing the poor camasi. Was it a result of his memnii? Was she not able to protect him enough last night? The questions open the gate for fear to run wild within her own heart. The Jedi Master clamps it back shut. That would not help. Control. Focus on breathing. Trusting in the force and her own abilities is all she can do. Stormer takes one more deep breath and pushes the connection as much as she can. It grows taunt, and loud, silencing the rest of the world around her.

"Jacek!" Practically screeching she calls out. Desperate, and angry at the lack of her own power. Drowsiness is replaced by panic. His body jolts up and she can almost see him now. The vague outline of his small frame appears at the forefront of her mind. He lies somewhere dank and dark. Alone yet not restless in his little spot.

'Better than the alternative I suppose.' His voice is quiet. There's a minor sense of bitterness. Sorrow lingers in him. She shouldn't be surprised. Last night had been filled with many horrors. The mourning offered few condolences. Still he had to focus. If his mind was not on the priorities he would be die. That was not allowed to happen. Not to one so young who had already brushed so closely with the experience.

"If you ever get lost in the wilderness what must you do?" Her master's voice practically speaks over her own as she asks.

'Food first. Once you have food, find a water source. Memorize it's location. Travel along the water source to find civilization, and get a message out. What do you do if the people you're supposed to send a message out to are gone?' Panic was settling in. That wouldn't do. This feeling of isolation would not be permanent. As soon as it was safe too she would return to him, and then the two could leave together. They would escape. Together. Into space and all of it's endless possibilities. As long as he can just last until she figures it out. Once she has a way she can get him. They will survive this. An empty sensation climbs up her back. Death.

"I'm not gone." Doubt drips off him like giant beads of sweat.

'But you aren't here with me master.' That was technically true. Despite all those years in the temple he still needed to learn more about faith. 

"Find a water source Jacek. Then I will find you."

'Yes master.' Reluctance. Exhaustion. Fear of former allies. Flashes of a barrel of a gun flickers across the connection. They're tinged with red. Just what happened before Appo Smithers got involved? Another memory cuts across in answer. Franks falling. Dead. Shaking her head she let's the images go.

Sierra opens her eyes and cuts the connection. Once they were flying far away from this place a talk would be had. All those fears may never be put entirely to rest. Quelling any and all night terrors may never happen. If she has learned anything from her past experiences it's that these conversations must be had. If not then such emotions can lead to a far more treacherous road.

Gently a breeze brushes her loose hair off her neck. Standing, Sierra reaches out through the force one last time. Not focusing her unique ability as much as before she tracks the soldiers. Some were still in the same place as last night. Barely moving, injured and laying in wait. Four teams of two clones each were scattered throughout the forest. Appo was by himself, searching loosely in the direction he sent Jacek running in. There's a moment. Just one tense second where the two look like they're moving towards each other. Of course he would go for the river. That's the first place any tracker would check.

Hair stands up on the back of her neck. A blue strand falls in front of her eyes. Looking out through the trees Sierra takes in the mess of branches and vines of the upper canopy. There's large gaps in between them. Difficult for a single jump to cross the space. Cracking her knuckles she takes a step back. Appo stops, and moves away from Jacek's path. He was still working to protect him. Even with all that hatred towards her swelling up within his chest. She has to move on. Letting all the air out of her lungs, Sierra runs. Leaping, and lunging her way through the leaves, and animals in the top of the trees.

Only about an hour or two has past by the time she's back. On the outskirts of the village, she perches high hidden within green and orange leaves. They hide her slightly darker, brown skin well. Soldiers move back and forth furiously. Yelling, a count of about six of her men were guiding the rest.

Slowing, she creeps through the trees around the edge of the village. The natives were all inside their homes. A few stand around right outside in their yards. Only one, the spokesperson she had paid for allowing them to stay was out in the midst of the clones. She stands tall, looking out sternly from Yevon's side. Together the two talk in the center of the village. Yevon's eyes were focused on the pad in front of his face. Wet leaves slide against her thighs as Stormer leans out. Seeing the pad's information would be impossible. Listening close, she gathers what little info is possible

"Our Jedi general has betrayed the Republic. I, how dare she!" Not Yevon, another clone's not quite hushed voice drifts up. He wasn't sure if he should be speaking aloud on such matters, but a few grunts of agreement push him on. "We've risked life and limb in this war! We were bred for it by the bastards. Why now? Why did they create us to just throw us away?"

"We were always going to be thrown away. If not now then later once they were fed up with this mess they created." Another pipes in.

Heart falling, Stormer braces her palm flat against the branch under her. Reaching out, stretching her will and senses down through the giant tree. Sliding down, slithering through the ground like an underground snake she moves the focus. Zig-zagging all the way over to the ground right below Yevon's feet. A problem presents itself in a choice.

If she pushes up and views Yevon he may recognize her presence. For the two months they've been on this planet she's used her skill to keep contact with him the most. Senses as sharp as a Jedi, that one had. Almost every time he had noticed her before she could speak. Circling in the ground underneath the voices above feel muffled. As if the two were sharing a very large muzzle or cage.

She could use it to establish contact with the temporary leader of this town. Dancing beneath their feet she considers this for a long while. It would be easier to make a connection with someone she knows, but were the Sy Myrthians susceptible to such a link. A few species were uniquely able to prevent such mind melds. Time was running out. Jacek was waiting for her. Now is the time to make a decision!

Placing her second palm against the tree, she pushes up. Doubt is a mind killer. It overtakes even the strongest soul in the darkest of nights. In a split decision she chooses the one she knows will work. A tried road provides known obstacles.

For three tense seconds it works. Yevon goes on talking as if nothing happens.

"Most of the Jedi have been executed already." She holds her breath, masking all emotions she may feel from the news. Yevon's body goes rigid.

"Our people were always neutral. Some of the Sy Myrthians joined Count Dooku side but the Jedi have been favorable to those of us unsure of where to lie. To hear of such betrayals is a devastating blow to many people's hopes." Her voice drifts at Yevon. It doesn't really register as something else preoccupies his mind. Resentment ebbs and flows. For a moment she can see his memories. Growing up alongside his brothers. Firing a gun for the very first time. His first kill. A lone gunman trying to take out a whole squad of his brothers. A fool.

_ Like you. _

"Our general is loose somewhere." Yevon goes on. He turns around and puts his back directly towards Stormer. A warning. More memories go flying through the connection. This time it shows Stormer force choking one of his brothers, before throwing him into the line of fire. Protecting her body behind his own. Another shows Jacek punching Franks across the face. One more of the two discussing clone deaths and marking them off as nothing.

In a voice uncannily like her own the memory speaks, "More can always be made."

_ You're already dead. _

Hatred. Pure and utter hatred erupts like a volcano. It covers all those false memories. Moments twisted against her. Now shaped into a knife going for her heart. Sadly, she shares her own memories. Moments of guidance where the clones taught her. Hightide helping her hunt. Appo Smithers comforting a crying Jacek after his first day in the field. Years upon years of friendship. Yevon standing in front of the Jedi high council making his case for recommissioning enemy droids. Saving some of his brothers' lives. On this last one she makes sure he feels her pride. That speech had been one of her proudest moments during her time working alongside the clones.

Lies.

Doubt seeps in, like mold slowly covering a damp blanket. Disgusting, persistent, leaving throwing it out as the only viable option.

"Mace Windu is dead as well as Ki-Adi-Mundi, and several other high council members." Yevon continues on drilling in two more nails into her coffin.

"That is true but we can not forget that your general is not the only one to have escaped. Rumors carry news of Yoda's survival. They say Oppo has also not been found. Two members of the council have survived your first strike. More must be out there. If you allow it I can gather a small team of hunters to go out and aid in your search of the traitor."

"We don't trust you all enough to accept such aid."

"So honest. It is clear your loss has afflicted you deeply, as before you were far more then polite. Tell me, do you expect us to remain imprisoned in our homes as you tear through all our forests?"

"Yes." Short in a matter of factly manner he responds. A list of faces with statuses fills his holo. Quinlan Vos - unknown, Obi-wan - dead, Anakin Skywalker - unknown. Yevon wipes the list away. Bitterly she can feel his venomous emotions through their connection.

"I must make a call on how we will proceed. Excuse yourself." Yevon orders as he turns on his com. A look of disgust fills the speaker's face before she reluctantly leaves. This was not the Yevon she had known. None of them were her brothers anymore. Heart clawing against her ribcage, Stormer forces herself to listen. Quietly, as if worried of a spy, Yevon gives the commanding clones of each search party their orders. The river was to be searched first. If Jacek and herself were to be found there then they would know once and for all if the commander really was on  _ their  _ side.

His plans were to push the natives out of their way with any means necessary. This was the same man who was ecstatic to work with locals on the planets they visited. The same person who insisted on visiting planets alone for a week. Living among them, learning their customs, aiding in making sure none of their boundries crossed. Stormer clenches removes her hands. Releasing the connection to Yevon, she flees. Quietly leaping from branch to branch, back into the jungle. It wasn't just their opinions of her that have been affected.

As she navigates her way to Jacek her mind wanders. Thoughts of why, and old memories lay siege against her brain. Leaves smacking against her body become blurs of green and orange. Between the flashes of color, faces assault her. Through the clouds they stand proudly. Overwhelming, defiant, happy. Appo Smithers carrying Jacek on his shoulders through the temple. Franks asking her to help shave his head. That blissful night of peace when Hightide and Laylen fell asleep in the middle of the rec center, on the only couch. Appo smiling knowingly as she used the force to cover them up with a blanket. His hand on her shoulder. A squeeze so familiar and calming that it felt like it came from family. One by one they force her to focus on them. Making her meet their brown eyes, and nearly identical faces. Memorizing the differences between each in those small moments. Brief memories she'll never take advantage of again. Lastly Yevon hits her. Blocking her vision worst then the rest had he comes and goes faster too. The first time she recognized his potential it was on a reconnaissance mission. It took five minutes of him just listening to people for him to figure out the best way of finding information. Despite all her training she was never that great with people. When she told him he had been accepted for Arc training, he smiled a real smile for the first time. After getting back he was strict. The training had changed him, but there were still moments. Quiet times where the two of them just talked. On some nights for hours on end, and she felt so proud of him. Out of all her men his progress had been the most exponential.

That pride shatters in her chest as her foot lands the wrong way on a branch. Smacking into the wood, her right foot follows. Letting her body fall, Sierra takes a deep breath. Pain swells up in her ankle. Jacek was nearby. She could feel his presence in the force. Slowly, muffled words begin to drift up to her ears as her body speeds up. The foliage she crashes into does nothing to slow her descent. Waiting for the last second, Stormer throws out her hands. Fingers tightening around the closest vines, she uses them to twist her body mid-fall. Once her feet are pointing towards the ground she lets go of the vines. With a thud her body lands. Most of the weight landing on her already sore left foot.

Dropping herself down, Stormer lands right behind him. "You should always remain alert." She's well aware of how soft her voice sounds, despite it being a warning.

Hopping on his heels, Jacek's body seizes up. Reaching out, she stops her hand just above his shoulder. This was an important lesson. They were being hunted down. Life and death were up in the air. Any moment could be their last. He can't rest. Can't relax because he's met no one while by the river. Great big eyes peer from over that same shoulder. There's a moment of tension. Uncertainty, and confusion as they stand. Less then three inches away from each other. As his mind registers past the shock Jacek shakes his head. Stormer frowns at his lack of a reaction. It was probably best he wasn't too excited to see her again. Clinging to a leader in a situation like this could kill him. Once upon a time it had almost killed her. Still even just a smile would have been nice.

"Are you a ghost?"

"If I was I would not have been traveling by tree." Foolish child.

"Master?" Lip quivering, he turns around and faces her.

"Last time I check." Making a grand gesture Stormer looks over herself. Patting every part of her remaining robe. "The one and only."

Jacek leaps into her arms, pushing Stormer a step back. Matted fur, rubs mud, and blood across her arms. They're cool against her already freezing skin. He loops his arms around her waist. His cold snout rubbing and covering the upper half of her robe in greenish-white snot. Tears flow freely from his tired, redden, grey eyes. As soon as he was sure she was physically real his arms tighten around her. They squeeze like a Lothcat's trap around her waist. A sharp, furry ear pressing into her rib cage.

"I can't believe you're really here!" Heavy words, filled with a deep sadness only growing. "After what happened to Franks I thought he had killed you!"

"I spoke to you this morning." Was he so unaware?

"That was real?"

"Very." Reassuring him, Stormer runs a hand through the fur on top of his head.

His stained robes begin to mark her own with blurry red and brown spots. Stormer ignores it, choosing to lift her young padawan up, messy the robes up even more. His body is heavy in her arms. Even now he's quick to forget the danger around them. Shifting all his weight against her chest the short Caamasi snuggles deeper into her hold. There may be no saving their old robes now, but that is a small price to pay for his comfort. Looking up there's blue skies peering back down on them through holes in the canopy. The healthy green and orange leaves allow small glimpses at their only escape.

This planet was a prison. Even if they leave, the whole galaxy may be. Pondering their choices, Stormer lumbers backwards. Adjusting the awkward padawan in her arms, she tries to sit comfortably in the roots of the closest tree. Luckily the roots are formed perfectly around her crossed legs, like a seat made specifically for her.

"We'll make it out of here." Stormer promises as Jacek wiggles in her hold. Gently she rubs the back of his head. Listening intently, she hears the snoring as soon as it starts. Allowing the padawan to sleep despite her discomfort, Stormer leans her back against the tree. Today had been tiring. Physical exhaustion must be nothing compared to his emotion amount. A year from now how will he recall this? Ten years will he still remember? Knowing the distinct memories of his species, it's likely. As long as he's alive to remember that is.

Instinctually her other arm shoots across his back. Pressing him against her like a mother savoring one last moment with their child. Shallow breaths warms her skin closest to his snout. Is this how it would've felt if she never gave up her child? According to Appo the baby had been a boy. A son she will never know.

Such thoughts only work to cloud her mind. Right now all that matters is their survival. Really only Jacek's survival. For he and the other padawans will be all that remains in this world after the Jedi. They will decide what is remembered, what lives on in others the find, and ultimately what is forgotten about their now lost order. Tomorrow she will set out alone. Stealing a ship, with enough fuel to take them towards one of the forbidden harbors. A planet with space travel technology on the outskirts of the mapped galaxy.

Somewhere quiet and lost. A place they can make their home as this war subsides. He'll feel lost at first. So far from the only three planets he had ever known. Jacek may even feel depressed or forsaken by the force. A perfect lure for the dark side to try and claim his mind. If she had learned anything from her time under her master when he worked with the Caamasi Ylenic it's that their kind rarely fall to the dark end of the force. If one were their nature would become a conflict against everything that side of the force would try to twist them into.

Such emotions may just result in his greatest challenge. Even so, she'll make sure he survives. Nothing will stop her from saving him. Absolutely nothing short of death. Even then, she'll have to make plans. Jacek alone couldn't happen. The boy's so young, and so dependent on those nearby. Maybe it's time to contact him.

They haven't spoken in years, but if anything were to happen. If Jacek were to end up alone.,,,

There has to be a plan in place. No matter how much she never wanted to talk to him again.

"I'll protect you. I promise." Stormer whispers against his furry head. Corellian whiskey scent, fills her nose. Jacek will be a far better Jedi then she ever can be. Even if the secrets of the nuanced side of the force can never be learned by him. Straightening out his blue lined, white robes, Stormer knows they'll have to discard them. Living in secret while wearing such clothes would only betray their identity. Sadly she smiles. He had been so excited when she first gifted these to him. A pair of white robes, and silver ones matching her own. The lining his favorite color. Deep blue, like the seas of Glee Anselm. He had only ever seen the planet in holos from his lessons. History, and fiction books that anyone could acquire from the library.

His cherry brown fur bristled when she first entered. Anxiety came off him anytime she entered the same room as the boy. Their first introductions probably hadn't helped. The robes were met as a peace offering. A chance to remedy a reputation the others Jedi and younglings had already torn to tatters for her. Back then she was so sure there would be time to repair those misconceptions. To explain on her own time why so many believe her to be fallen. A sith pretending to be a knight.

A trickster who had fooled the even the best of the high council. That will forever be her legacy now. If anybody else survived it doesn't matter if they know the truth or not. Even though she had done it for them. Deep down, truthfully she had done it for him. Just him.

The moment Jacek took the robes from her arms they had changed. From this dangerous stranger she went in his eyes to someone he could learn to trust. As he threw on his new robes over his old clothes Stormer watched with a polite smile on her face. As he turned on his heels, feeling them out she knew taking him on had been the right choice. They were finally,

Master and Padawan.


End file.
